


Pretty Words

by ericaismeg



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Minor Pack, Pack in College, post show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 04:58:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1497508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ericaismeg/pseuds/ericaismeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Anything for my favourite wolf.”<br/>“I beat Scott?” Derek's surprised.<br/>Stiles snorts. “Dude, no one beats Scott. That's like a given.”<br/>Derek rolls his eyes. “And for a second there, I thought that you might be a romantic.”<br/>“You want romance? Oh, hell yes, I can romance the fuck out of you, wolfie. Just wait.”<br/>“I'm dying in anticipation,” Derek deadpans.</p><p>OR: The one where Stiles and Derek try to out-romance each other, and Derek realizes that he has feelings for none other than Stiles Stilinski.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty Words

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine, because I kind of wrote this in a rush.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: The schools, Berkeley and Sacramento, most definitely do not have a Baking and Pastry Arts Management program (at least none I found thanks to Google). AND we're going to pretend there's a nice little beach in Sacramento as well. Love you!

♚♞ ♚♞ ♚♞

 

 

            “Derek!” Stiles calls out when he enters the loft. “I know you know I'm here. Get your pretty ass down here. I want to talk.”

            Derek glances at the clock. Stiles must have come straight from school, which used to make Derek worried. It used to mean that Stiles had an epiphany, learned something important, or connected something together regarding some dangerous supernatural being they were fighting. Now though, Beacon Hills has quieted down (since when does _that_ happen?) and Stiles is still coming around after school.

            As he walks down the hall towards the stairs, Derek tries to get a sense on what Stiles is feeling today. Excitement, nerves, and a little bit of worry. When Derek steps on the bottom step, he spots Stiles in the kitchen spreading out pamphlets. _Did Stiles sleep with someone? Were those STI pamphlets?_ Those are the only kind of pamphlets that Derek can think of.

            “What is going on?” he asks, from the bottom of the stairs still.

            Stiles waves him over. He runs a hand through his hair nervously as Derek approaches, and then blurts, “I want you to look at college brochures with me.”

            Eyebrows together, Derek nods. Relief rushes through him. Derek does _not_ want to think about Stiles, sex, and STIs. He'd been talking to Scott about his college options just last week. Perhaps he'd given some advice (Derek had done a lot of nodding and grunting), Scott had mentioned it to Stiles, and that's why he's here. “Sure, Stiles. What are the current options?”

           He sits down at the island, and Stiles sits down at the other side, blinking. “Oh. Okay. Well, first off, Beacon Hills Community College is close. Obviously. I think Scott's leaning towards it, mainly because he doesn't want to leave Beacon Hills. It's not a slacker school though. Some people _move_ here to go to it. Which is a bit ridiculous, if you ask me. But no one would have to move, and the pack will still migrate back here as their home base.”

            Derek nods. He asks, “But what about spreading your wings, and that kind of shit? Getting out there, learning about yourself, meeting new people.”

            “Right. Well, the other obvious choices are Sacramento State. That's only an hour and a half away. Still close enough to home, but far enough away to have a life. Great school, great reputation, people go crazy for it.” Stiles pushes a brochure at Derek. “They have a great baking program too.”

            Derek cocks his head at Stiles, confused. Stiles is _not_ a good baker. Cook, yes, baker, no.

            “The next option is to do Berkeley. Great school, of course. It's a three-hour drive away, but that's not even that bad. Berkeley has a great reputation, has awesome sports teams, and the baking program there is a bit more intense.” Stiles watches Derek carefully, and he notices the nervous energy surrounding the kid.

            “I thought you were going to school to be a teacher,” Derek says slowly. He watches as Stiles blinks a couple times in pure confusion, before letting out a nervous laugh.

            “Oh, sorry, um, Derek. I know where I'm going. I just...my dad and I talked. We thought it'd be good for you to go to school when the pack does too. So you're not sitting at home brooding the entire four years.” Stiles laughs again, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

            Derek isn't sure what to say. Firstly, he's shocked. It hadn't even occurred to him to go back to school. The insurance from the fire is enough to keep him afloat for a lifetime, but maybe working at something he loves would be nice. Secondly, he's extremely touched that Stiles and the Sheriff would even consider this for him.

            “Stiles, I...”

            “Oh god, you're mad. I knew it was a bad idea to mention it, but my dad said I had a brilliant idea and they don't come around too often, and I should definitely mention it to you. But I guess I was wrong, and oh god, let me just take these brochures back.”

            “No,” Derek manages to say. Stiles freezes, in mid-sweep of the brochures. “No, Stiles, I studied History in New York.”

            “I didn't know that,” Stiles says, relaxing a bit.

            “I never finished. Laura left to come here, and I followed her. When I found her dead...I lost my best friend, and my sister, Stiles. I couldn't even _fathom_ going back to school. Plus, Peter was still around being a fucking asshole and murderer, so it wasn't much of a question for me. It's just never occurred to me to go back to school when everything calmed down,” Derek admits.

            He's gotten used to Stiles, and knows that if Stiles truly judges him, he'll just straight up tell Derek. Derek is getting better at figuring it out now.

            “Wow, dude, _wow_. Sorry. So History was your thing? Is it still? Because I didn't research the programs—”

            “Baking sounds great,” Derek interrupts him. “Why did you suggest it?”

            “I've had your brownies, Derek. And your cupcakes. And your muffins. I've had enough of your baked goods to know that you belong in a kitchen.” Stiles beams. “Plus you look _so good_ with flour on your face.”

            Derek rolls his eyes at Stiles' joke. He picks up the brochure for Beacon Hills Community College. “Where are you going to school?”

            “I'm hoping I get into Sacramento. It'd be nice to be close to home, and yet not.”

             Derek nods. “Okay, then that's where I'll aim for too.”

            “Dude, you can't choose a school on a person!” Stiles lectures.

            He shrugs. “I can do whatever I want. I'd rather get out of Beacon Hills, know someone who's also going to be there, and be close enough to come home if I need to.”

            Stiles stares at him. It's a long minute or so before Stiles says, “Oh. Okay. So let me tell you about their program...”

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞

 

            “Stiles,” Derek says quietly when he spots the kid walking towards his Jeep. Stiles swirls around at the sound of his voice, waves a hand, and awkwardly trips, stumbling forward. Derek jerks out an arm to catch his fall.

            “Dude,” Stiles says when he stands upright. “You can't just do that to a guy. Surprising him at school like this. What's up, Derek? Everything okay?”

            “Everything's fine. I got a letter from Sacramento though.”

            Stiles stills slightly, before saying, “ _And_?”

            “And I wanted to open it with you. Over dinner. Meet me at Fran's in fifteen?” When Stiles eyes him, he adds, “That way you have your Jeep.”

            “Sure thing, stud muffin.”

            Derek rolls his eyes, gets into his Camaro, and drives off. He'd checked the mail early this afternoon, and seeing who it was from, had immediately gone to the school to wait for Stiles. He'd been 'brooding' as Stiles put it. If he doesn't get into the school—Stiles had gotten his letter last week and had been accepted—Derek can always go to Beacon Hills Community College with Scott McCall. It's an option. It's there. It's _real_. He'd been accepted there. But Derek wants to go to Sacramento with Stiles.

            There are many reasons why he wants to go to school with Stiles, and only a few include because Derek's scared, doesn't want to be alone in an unfamiliar territory, and he's only just recently gotten close to Stiles. He doesn't want to lose their budding friendship just yet. Not that Stiles is the kind of person to go to school and forget about his pack. Still. Derek wants to be at school with Stiles.

            “Alright, so open it.” That's the only thing Stiles says when they're settled into a booth. Derek pulls out the letter.

            He hesitates.

            “Dude, the suspense is killing me. I want to know if we can apply to be roommates or not. Open it.”

            Derek does as Stiles' demands. He feels Stiles' heartbeat pick up in anticipation. It matches his own.

 

**_Congratulations! We are pleased to welcome you to Baking and Pastry Arts Management program at Sacramento University._ **

****

“I got in,” Derek whispers. He looks up at Stiles, whose heart skips a beat, and Stiles settles into the booth with relief. “Stiles, I'm going to Sacramento with you.”

            Stiles raises his hand, and it takes Derek a second before he understands why. He high-fives Stiles, who then starts rummaging through his bag. He pulls out a stack of papers and hands them to Derek. “I knew you'd get in, so I have some roommate request forms that we can fill out.”

            Derek blinks. “You knew I'd get in.”

            “Well, you're not _stupid_ , Derek.” Stiles rolls his eyes. “I think the death of your sister is a valid reason to drop out of school. I'm sure the admissions understood that. That's what you were worried about, right? They wouldn't accept you because you didn't finish school?”

            Derek shrugs. “Yeah, I guess. My grades kind of dropped near the end too.”

            “Still, I knew you'd get in. You _do_ want to be my roommate, right?”

            Derek hears the nervousness in his voice, hears the way his heart speeds up, and can sense the sweat on Stiles' palms. He smiles shyly, and nods. “I would like to room with you. Will your dad be okay with it? I really should ask him...”

            “He's fine with it,” Stiles says, with a wave of his hand. “He would prefer it actually. He trusts you to protect me, especially since he knows I'll probably get myself into trouble.”

            “I still should ask, Stiles.”

            “Ugh, fine. I'll call him.” Stiles pulls out his phone. Derek doesn't stop him, even though he wants to. He's older than Stiles, and he doesn't want to move in with Stiles without his dad's permission. What if Stiles hadn't talked to the Sheriff about it, and when he found out he became angry with Derek? Maybe the Sheriff wants Stiles to get away from anything supernatural which includes a five-years-older werewolf.

            “Hey dad,” Stiles says a few minutes later. “Derek wants to discuss our living arrangements with you.”

            Derek sharpens his hearing to hear the Sheriff say, “ _Does this mean he got into Sacramento?_ ”

            “It does!” Stiles beams when he says it, making Derek flush.

            “ _Put him on, son._ ”

            Stiles hands out the phone to Derek, who tries not to hesitate before taking it. “Hello, sir.”

            “ _Derek, I hear congratulations are in order._ ”

            Derek feels the heat rushing to his face. It makes him wonder what his parents would say about him going back to school. “Yes, ah, thank you, sir.”

            “ _Stiles has been talking about this since you two applied together. He never had a doubt you'd get in. Neither did I, son._ ” The term of endearment makes Derek go still. However, he's positive that the Sheriff didn't even notice. “ _What would you like to discuss_?”

            His eyes meet Stiles', who is watching him carefully. Derek clears his throat, runs his hand through his hair and rests his hand on the back of his neck. “Well, I just wanted to make sure that you're comfortable with me requesting to live with Stiles in residence.”

            There's a pause, and Derek's positive that the Sheriff is going to say no. Then he hears a confused tone, “ _Wait, is that all_?”

            “Uh, yes, sir.”

            “ _Derek, Stiles has told me all the times you've saved his ass. I also watched you fight for my son when the..._ ” the Sheriff trails off. Derek's surprised to find goose bumps on his skin. He shouldn't be surprise. It happens whenever someone mentions the Nogitsune. “ _...you didn't sleep for two days, Hale. I think I would be lucky if you wanted to live with my messy, smelly son._ ”

            Derek laughs, and Stiles' eyes grow a bit wider. “I appreciate that. I'll make sure he showers on a regular basis.”

            Stiles fakes offence.

            “ _With a sense of smell like yours, he'll have to if he wants to keep you around. Thank you for calling me, Derek. I appreciate your concern, but you're family._ ”

            Derek's heart fills with an unfamiliar emotion. His eyes soften as he smiles at Stiles, who only smiles at him as though he knows exactly what his father had said. Derek drops his voice and says, “I...thank you, Sheriff.”

            “ _Come to dinner tomorrow night. We'll have a celebration dinner. I have to go, but tell Stiles that I don't expect him home tonight._ ”

            “Yes, sir. Thanks again.”

            “ _Have a nice dinner, son._ ”

            “You too,” Derek responds dumbly. He hands Stiles the phone when he hears the dial tone.

            “I told you that he's cool with us living together. What else did he say though?” Stiles asks watching Derek closer than usual.

            “He said that...he invited me to a celebration dinner tomorrow night, and that he doesn't...uh, expect you home tonight.” Derek looks down at the phone that sits on the table. Stiles is making some confused face, but Derek misses it as he murmurs, “He said I'm family.”

            Stiles snorts. When Derek lifts his head, Stiles rolls his eyes. “Did you ever doubt that?” He leans forward and drops his voice. “We _are_ pack, and you said pack means family. Family's forever, dude.”

            Derek leans back in his seat. “Thank you, Stiles. I'm...honoured.”

            Stiles snorts again. He rolls his eyes, and then brightens. “If I don't have to come home tonight, do you wanna practice playing house at your place?”

            “Sure.”

****

♚♞♚♞♚♞

****

            “Oh _my god_ , when were you going to tell me that you had bought a TV?” Stiles demands an hour and a half later. They'd stopped by the grocery store to pick up snacks and 'must-haves' which turned out to be more junk food. Not that Derek minded, because Stiles ended up picking up some fruit, veggies, and promised to make him a late-night dinner if they got hungry later.

            “It was kind of a surprise. I had Scott come with me so that...that I got something we could both enjoy if I got into school,” Derek admits. He starts putting away some juice. They may have gone a bit overboard with groceries for one night. Derek catches Stiles looking at him, with his head cocked.

            “You also got an Xbox _and_ some new games that I haven't had time or money to buy.” It's a statement this time.

            Derek shrugs. “Scott said you'd like them. I didn't know...but consider it an early graduation gift.”

            “You got these for me.” Stiles says this, a little closer to Derek now.

            “Yes,” Derek says, putting a red pepper and onion into the fridge. He turns, and then Stiles' arms are wrapping around him.

            “ _Dude_ , you are such a soft wolf, it's fucking ridiculous.” Stiles buries his face into the crook of Derek's neck. “I love it. I love...I love you, dude.”

            Derek hasn't heard those words in far too long. They should break his heart, considering the last time he had heard them had been when Cora had hugged him goodbye to stay with an old pack that the Hales used to be friends with in South America. Cora's the last family he has, and they aren't even in the same town as each other.

            Before that, Laura would tell him those three words before they said goodbye for any reason. If he was going to the corner store, she'd give him a hug, a kiss, and an 'I love you'. Because, Derek knows that the last time he and Laura had heard those words had been two years before the fire. He hasn’t heard them nearly enough in the past few years.

            He clings to the words for a second, letting their meaning fill his heart with something he hadn't felt in a while.

            A grin on his face, he squeezes Stiles close to him. “I love you too.”

            Stiles pulls back, his face blank with shock. His eyes bounce all around Derek's face. “You mean that?”

            “I mean it.” Derek ruffles Stiles' hair. “Don't tell Jackson I've gone a little soft. He'd tease me endlessly.”

            Stiles lets out a small laugh, and nods. “Deal. Although, no promises on keeping this from Lydia. She might tell Jackson, since she's going to school in London to be with him.”

            “It's official now? Good for them. How's Scott doing?” Derek asks, as he continues to put away groceries. Stiles starts helping by passing him various items.

            “Scott's...he's alright. He's trying to explain to Kira that his decision to stay in Beacon Hills isn't based on wanting to be with Allison. Kira's coming to Sacramento with us. But I think Kira knows that Allison and Isaac are all over each other, and just likes watching Scott squirm a bit.” Stiles grins. “I like Kira. She's got spunk, y'know?”

            “She's definitely something. I owe a lot to her,” Derek admits.

            Stiles cocks his head.

            Derek raises an eyebrow. “You. She helped save you, and she barely knew you then. I would do anything for Kira to repay that.”

            Stiles smirks. “Aw, dude, you got _really_ soft. I like this side of you, Derek. I mean, Derek Hale, teddy bear at heart, with so many feels—”

            “Feels?” Derek interrupts.

            “Feelings, dude. Feelings. Get with the times. I swear you act like you’re a grandfather.” Stiles rolls his eyes dramatically. “You have so much to learn, young wolf.”

            “I'm older than you,” Derek mutters.

            “You're still a puppy,” Stiles retorts.

            “I think that title belongs to Isaac.”

            “He really is a cutie, isn't he?” Stiles asks, settling down on a stool at the kitchen island. Derek takes all the empty bags to put them into a bigger bag of bags underneath his sink.

            “Have you heard from Erica or Boyd yet?” Derek asks, when he straightens again.

            “According to Erica, they're having a blast in Paris. She says she has exciting news for us, so I think they got married. I hope they consider having a second wedding. I was looking forward to being her best man!” Stiles pouts.

            “Um, what makes you think that _I_ wouldn't be their best man?” Derek asks, raising an eyebrow.

            “Because,” Stiles says, laughing, “I dibs it.”

            Derek laughs and grabs a bag of chips. “C'mon, let's let you kick my ass.”

            Stiles hops up to follow him.

****

♚♞♚♞♚♞

****

            When they move into their dorm room, Derek's surprised at how neat that Stiles keeps his half of the room. It only lasts for about a month and a half. Then Derek notices the clothes piling up on the floor, empty garbage that used to hold food also start piling up on Stiles' desk, and there are a few dirty dishes lying around. It doesn't faze Derek much, but he starts to tidy up. It's not that he's trying to be a control freak, but he doesn't work well in messy spaces and he has a dessert proposal to write.

            What Derek hasn't been able to miss since they moved in together is the unmistakeable way that their scents have started to mix. Derek shouldn't be that surprised, but it's a little unusual that their scents mixed together should smell _that_ good. It might have to do with the fact that whenever Stiles is home alone, he's jacking off. It's not that Derek would ever bring it up, but he can always smell it. Derek hasn't been able to resist when he's home alone either, so perhaps the scents are just created too closely together.

            He's not sure, but it's driving his wolf mad.

            When Stiles walks in to a clean dorm room, he frowns, and Derek's wolf is ready to rip his clothes off. Well, okay, that clearly can't happen. Derek takes a deep breath.

            “What's wrong?”

            Stiles gestures to his side of the room. “You...you cleaned.”

            “Oh, um, sorry. It wasn't really a big deal. I just...I like a clean space when I do work,” Derek shrugs. “I wasn't really thinking about it.”

            “No, _I_ 'm sorry dude. I should've realized that the scents and stuff would be distracting. Just hit me in the head next time. What can I do to help?” Stiles asks. He claps his hands together. “I'll make you dinner. What do you feel like?”

            Derek relaxes. He should've known that Stiles would handle the situation without any freak outs. He shrugs and then says, “How about your mac and cheese? It's pretty good.”

            “ _Pretty good_? Derek, you hurt me. It's fucking fantastic, that's what it is.” Stiles puts a hand on Derek's arm. “But yeah, I can do that. Anything for my favourite wolf.”

            “I beat Scott?” Derek's surprised.

            Stiles snorts. “Dude, no one beats Scott. That's like a given.”

            Derek rolls his eyes. “And for a second there, I thought that _you_ might be a romantic.”

            “You want romance? Oh, hell yes, I can romance the _fuck_ out of you, wolfie. Just wait.”

            “I'm dying in anticipation,” Derek deadpans. It earns a fit of laughter from Stiles, and it's worth it. Derek settles onto his bed, opening his laptop (Stiles made him buy a new laptop before school, and taught him how to use it. It's not that Derek had no idea, but there were certain tricks and shortcuts that he definitely hadn't used before) and watches as Stiles goes about floundering around in the kitchen.

****

♚♞♚♞♚♞

****

            “Candles?” Derek asks, trying to keep a bored tone in his voice. Stiles snorts, as he flicks the match to light them.

            “Yes, _candles_. I borrowed them from Kira. She thought it was weird, but you said you wanted romance.”

            “Candles are so overrated, Stiles,” Derek says quietly. The truth is that he's touched that Stiles would go out of his way to borrow them from Kira. She must have given him the strangest look when she handed them to Stiles. Derek almost wishes he could've seen it, but then that would've ruined the surprise. He watches the flames flicker.

            His wolf is secretly prancing right now.

            “Candles are _classic_ romance. Now, shut up and sit your pretty ass down.” Stiles rushes over to their stereo. He sets his iPod into it, and fiddles around. A soft song starts playing and Derek recognizes it as Frank Sinatra. Okay, so maybe Stiles' way of romancing is getting to Derek's heart. He won't admit that aloud though. That would make it real. “This is the perfect playlist for a romantic evening.”

            “You know I was kidding, right?” Derek asks quietly after a few minutes.

            Stiles snorts. “Yes, dude. I think I've gotten a grip on your humour. But this is just _funny_. I mean, Scott is going to laugh so hard when I tell him that I made us a romantic dinner. He'll think it was cute of us. And it _is_ cute of us.”

            “It's not _that_ romantic,” Derek argues.

            “Uh, excuse you. I made you dinner, your _favourite_ , got some candles, and put on Frank Sinatra. You think you can out romance me, soft wolfie?”

            Derek can't resist a challenge. “In fact, I think I can.”

            “Alright, you're on. Tomorrow night,” Stiles says, eyeing him. He holds up a fork and points it at Derek. “Make me swoon, sailor.”

            Derek laughs and shakes his head. “You're fucking ridiculous.”

            “Yeah, sure, you laugh it up, but I don't think you're going to beat this classic romantic night.” Stiles smirks. “If you do, I'll be highly impressed.”

            “And then you're going to try to beat me.”

            “Oh fuck yes I am.”

****

♚♞♚♞♚♞

****

            Derek's nervous. The anticipation of the evening is making him jump at the smallest of noises. He had called up Erica later in the evening, demanding to know how he could beat Stiles. She hadn't laughed at their antics, but had found it 'endearing'. Endearing schmearing. Derek is going to _win_.

            Erica's ideas had all been surprisingly good, considering she isn't always a romantic herself. Then she admitted that those are things that Boyd had done to woo her. Derek had cursed and muttered that he should've called Boyd. She just laughed and put him on speakerphone.

            Boyd had given a few suggestions, and Derek had been excited about them. Stiles is going to know what hit him: romance.

            “Hey _honey_ , I'm home!” Stiles calls into the room when he enters.

            Derek grins. “Stiles, _darling_ , please change into the outfit on your bed.”

            Stiles claps his hands together. “I always thought it was _so_ presumptuous when people in movies buy the woman a new dress or something, but now that it's happening to me...I am so excited!”

            Derek laughs. “Good, I want you to be happy.”

            “ _Oh_ , and nice words. Alright, I am ready to be wooed.”

            Derek tells him to meet him downstairs when he's ready. Stiles rushes off. When Derek's downstairs in the lobby, he changes into his outfit then. It's a nice pair of jeans, a green dress shirt (Stiles had once said the colour brings out his eyes), and a little bow tie. Derek had bought Stiles a bow tie of his own. He wants to be as ridiculously cheesy as possible. He hands the security desk his clothes—he'd already cleared it with them and boy had that been an awkward conversation.

            When Stiles comes downstairs, dressed in his own dark jeans, a light blue dress shirt, and a loose bow tie, Derek's heart stops. Goddammit, he's fucking sexy. Derek waves him forward, sensing all of Stiles' nerves, and fixes his bow tie.

            “Jeez, Derek, I admit it. You're already out-romancing me.” Stiles words are a whisper.

            “I told you. While food, candles, and music is nice...there are more romantic things to do. C'mon.”

            It doesn't occur to Derek that this game they're playing is dangerous, or that it's not a game at all. Instead, Derek focuses all of his energy on the fact that Stiles has the biggest grin on his face when Derek opens the Camaro's passenger door for him. Derek put that grin on his face.

            “Jeez-Louise, you're a true gentleman.”

            Derek asks Stiles about his day, and Stiles doesn't notice that the conversation is entirely fixed on him. Whenever Stiles asks Derek a question, he just turns it back around to Stiles.

            “Where are we going?” Stiles asks after a while.

            “You'll see,” Derek responds.

            About twenty minutes later, they pull into the parking lot for the beach. The sun hasn't set yet, thank gosh, and Derek parks the car.

****

**DEREK:** _here, everything set-up?_

**ERICA:** _it looks perfect, have fuuuun_

**BOYD:** _okay, NOW it looks perfect_

**BOYD:** _Erica picked out the perfect blanket—she wants you to appreciate it_

Derek rushes out to open the door for Stiles, who just blushes. When Derek grabs Stiles' hand, it just seems to be part of the game. Full romance.

            “Oh,” Stiles says. It takes him less than a second to squeeze Derek's hand gently. “You're serious about this, aren't you?”

            Derek cocks his head, and laughs. “It's been a long time since I've gotten to be competitive. Wait until you see what I have set-up for you, Stilinski.”

            “There's more.” It's a statement filled with disbelief.

            Then Derek points. Erica and Boyd, true to their word, had set up a picnic for them. He had wanted the surprise factor to help him. Erica had said it was extremely mushy, and Derek had laughed and said, “Make it happen, please.”

            “Wow. Oh my god, Derek, are we _actually_ having a picnic on the beach? At sunset? Are you fucking for real right now? Man, you have definitely stepped up this game.” Stiles laughs, tugging Derek along as they run towards the red picnic blanket. There's a wicker basket on it. A few things, such as plates and cutlery, have been set out for them. Stiles kicks his shoes off and dives onto the blanket. “How did you get this here?”

            “I have fairies,” Derek deadpans.

            Stiles laughs, and says, “I'm accepting that answer, because I don't want to ruin the magic.”

            He opens the wicker basket to see what's for dinner. Derek kicks his shoes off and joins Stiles on the blanket. Stiles gasps. “Oh man, _you made my favourites_.”

            Derek laughs and nods. “I know that you think music is romantic, but I was hoping that you'd accept the sound of the waves.”

            Stiles rolls his eyes. “ _Obviously_. Wow. Okay, so you win this round. What do you want to eat first?”

 

**DEREK:** _Erica you’re a goddess_

**ERICA:** _it’s the blanket, isn’t it?_

♚♞♚♞♚♞

            “We're holding hands, walking down an empty beach, at sunset,” Stiles whispers. “After having a wonderful picnic. Derek, I had no idea you were such a romantic.”

            “But?” Derek prompts.

            “I'm so kicking your ass in this game on Friday.”

            “That's three days away,” Derek murmurs.

            “Yes, and I think it's going to take me three days to make what I want happen, happen. I have a plan.” Stiles smirks. “I'm going to beat your ass.”

            “No way!” Derek says, laughing. “Whatever you do, I'll do better.”

            “Sure, sure,” Stiles says, laughing with him. “Whatever you say there, Hale.”

♚♞♚♞♚♞

            When Derek comes home from class on Friday afternoon, he expects Stiles to be hanging around in the apartment. Instead, he notices a note on his bed. He drops his stuff to the ground before he picks it up.

**_To find me, go to the first place we had dinner when we moved in._ **

****

A scavenger hunt. Damn, Derek's anticipation is high already. He grabs his keys, his wallet, and his cell phone. He doesn't think about what he's going to do to out-romance Stiles next. Instead, he gives in to his wolf and lets himself enjoy the chase.

            He finds the next clue hidden underneath the table that they'd sat in at the pizza shop. He had awkwardly explained to the couple who were sitting there why he wanted to check underneath the table. They had laughed and let him look, happy that he found the next clue.

****

**_Good boy. I bet the next clue is going to be by my favourite bookshelf._ **

****

_The library_ , Derek thinks. He takes off, rushing across campus. He almost knocks a little lady over, but apologizes and keeps going. When he gets to the library, he goes to the desk that Stiles usually sits at. Derek uses his wolf senses, not caring how unfair it might be, to find where Stiles scent also lingers. It takes him a minute to realize that's not going to work. It occurs to him that Stiles probably didn't just study school-related stuff in here.

            Heading to the mythology section, Derek catches a whiff of Stiles' lingering scent.

            He spots the note on a book called _Lycanthrophy: From the Beginning_. Of course, Stiles would research on werewolves in his spare time. Derek tugs the note off the book.

****

**_Damn, I'm impressed you've made it this far without texting me. Good for you. (There's another note in the library that I would've sent you to if you had texted me.) You're getting closer, soft wolfie. Now, where do I go to buy you your favourite drink when you have a bad night?_ **

****

            Derek clings to this particular note. It had been written in a typical Stiles rambling. Although, Derek has to admit, it bugs him when people comment about how Stiles rambles aimlessly. Stiles always has a clear point to everything he says. Derek smiles at the thought. Stiles doesn't say anything that's not important.

            He arrives at the small Starbucks that was hidden enough on campus it was rarely busy.

            The next note is stuck to the side of the lid racks.

 

**_Derek, I can guarantee that I'm getting antsy waiting for you. Come to Miller's Grill. You're in for a treat (please high-five me when you get here for making this the ONLY dog joke. You're welcome.)_ **

****

**_-Stiles_ **

****

            Derek can't help himself. His heart is pounding with anticipation, nerves, and excitement. He pushes the door to Miller's Grill open, and stops instantly.

            Usually the bar and grill is busy with people, but it's currently empty. He edges in carefully, spotting Stiles sitting underneath a spotlight. _He would_.

            “Derek, honey!” Stiles says, standing up. He rushes over, and keeps his voice low. “I _may_ have led the restaurant to believe that it's our anniversary, and this is where we fell in love six years ago. They want the story for their press, so...go with it.”

            Derek laughs, and on impulse, Derek kisses Stiles' cheek. At the contact, Derek's entire body seems to jump to life. He wonders what it is about Stiles Stilinski, and just when did the kid get underneath his skin?

            They high-five, and then Stiles intertwines their fingers.

            Derek lets Stiles' hand pull him towards their table. A waiter comes out to greet them, with a chilled bottle of wine.

            “Wow, Stiles...this is incredible.”

            “It gets much better,” Stiles murmurs. As the waiter pours them their wine, Stiles reaches across the table and puts his fingers on top of Derek's. Derek resists stilling at the touch, and instead gives Stiles his best smile.

            “Congratulations on your six year anniversary,” the waiter says with a smile. “Mr. Stilinski told me your story, and I just have to say. It's _so_ precious and heartbreaking. I'm happy that you two have made it this far. I'll be back with your meals when they're ready.”

            “Thank you so much, Heather,” Stiles says politely.

            Heather leaves them alone.

            Derek leans forward, trying to keep the amusement off his face. “ _What_ is our story?”

            Stiles laughs nervously. “I _may_ have told them that you lost your entire family, and _maybe_ mentioned that _I_ saved you from the fire. And okay, so, there _might_ have been a little bit about how much you hated me, and that it took me forever to get you to warm up to the idea of us being friends. And _maybe_ I mentioned that you helped me deal with the loss of my mother, and that we slowly, sort of, fell in love. And that you went to war without me, and you've been back for a year.”

            Derek blinks. Twice. “ _What_?”

            “I know. Some of it's kind of true.” Stiles gives him an apologetic expression. He keeps his voice down though. “Like we did lose our family, and you _have_ helped me deal with the loss of my mother. And we _did_ kind of go to war, with the Alpha Pack, Jennifer, and the whole Nogitsune thing. It was definitely war-like.”

            Derek shakes his head, finding it extremely difficult to be upset. “I can't believe you _used_ that as our story.”

            “How you asked me out was _really_ cute by the way,” Stiles tells him with a laugh. “I didn't realize they'd be so into our story, or that they'd use it for publicity, but no one around here knows us very well except for Erica, Boyd, and Kira anyway.”

            Derek shrugs. “I guess. But seriously, Stiles. Don't use the death of our family members to do...”

            “Too woo you, my love?” Stiles says. He looks down for a minute. “I'm not exactly _proud_ of it, but I mean...we're getting all of this for free.”

            “You must have spun a crazy story,” Derek murmurs. “It seems next to impossible.”

            Stiles beams at the remark. “Dude, I _know_. That's what makes _this_ so romantic. By the way, good for you for finding my favourite library shelf.”

            Derek smirks. “I know you pretty well, Stiles.”

            “Yeah, I know. It's nice.” Stiles' thumb casually rubs Derek's hand. He doesn't move away, finding comfort in the motion. “I'm glad you do.”

            “Your story was wrong on one particular part,” Derek murmurs. “I never hated you when we met.”

            “Really? Could've fooled me.”

            “You might have driven me mad, but I didn't hate you. I hated that you consistently put yourself into dangerous situations—like at one point you thought I was a _murderer_ ,” Derek drops his voice really low. “And you got into the police car to _tell_ me you weren't afraid of me.”

            “Which,” Stiles interrupts, “I immediately followed up with the truth.”

            “Stiles, you're ridiculous, a little too fearless, and definitely the strongest person I know.”

            “That is _the sweetest thing_ ,” Heather says suddenly. They both look up. She places their meals in front of them. She apologizes for interrupting and lets them know to call out for her if they need anything else.

            Then she's gone again.

            Derek glances up at Stiles. “You're going to hell for this, you know that right?”

            Stiles grins. “It's worth it.”

****

♚♞♚♞♚♞

****

            “So you didn't hate me?” Stiles asks quietly. They're walking slowly back to their dorm room. Neither of them wants the night to end, Derek can tell. He'd had such a good evening at dinner with Stiles. They'd laughed, teased each other, held hands, toasted, smiled, talked honestly, and Derek feels the wine going to his head (Stiles had brought a little wolfsbane for Derek, because he is a romantic).

            “What?”

            “When we first met, you didn't hate me.”

            “No. It angered me that you were human and so fucking fearless. You should've ran. From me. From Scott. But there you were, protecting us both even though we can heal in ways you can't. You saved my ass countless times, Stiles.”

            “Good, it's a nice ass,” Stiles teases.

            Derek laughs. “Whatever you say. I just wish Peter hadn't put you in the position for you to be risking your neck every time you turned around.”

            Stiles grins at him. “Dude, I was already risking my neck every other day being on the lacrosse team. God, you never know when Coach was going to stick me out on the field. It was a terrible, terrible waiting game.”

            “Please, you weren't that bad.”

            “I was pretty terrible. Minus that one game. I got all my glory in that one game, and Scott wasn't even there to see it.” Stiles leans into Derek as they cross the parking lot to their place. “Lydia saw it though.”

            “Were you still mooning over her then?” Derek asks quietly.

            “I'm not sure. I think I thought I was. Lately though, I'm not sure I ever really liked Lydia. More like the idea of her, the idea of what we could be.” Stiles shakes his head. “I don't think Lydia and I would've ever made a great couple.”

            “No, you wouldn't have. So, this is us.”

            They hover outside the front door. Stiles finally opens it. “It's a little weird that we went out on a date and come home to the same place. How am I suppose to call up my best friend, Scott, and tell him how funny this guy I went on a date turned out to be?”

            Derek casually bumps Stiles shoulder with his own. “I don't know, maybe you could tell your _other_ best friend how it went.”

            Stiles pauses walking, and then snorts. “You're so fucking cute sometimes, Derek. Alright, you go on up the elevator first and we'll pretend that you've been sitting on your ass doing boring shit all night while _I_ had a date.”

            “Deal.”

            When Derek enters their room, he sighs a little. He has about thirty seconds to call Erica.

            “ _Hello darling, how did the date with Stiles go_?” Erica purrs when she answers. She may be the only person who purrs. Maybe Lydia too.

            “It was so much fun, Erica. And I'm...mad.”

            “ _Why?_ ” Erica immediately goes on alert.

            “It's not real.”

            “ _Upstage him for the next round and make it real, Derek._ ”

            He hears Stiles walking down the hall. “What are you talking about?”

            “ _Beat him at his own game. Do something fucking ridiculous and make it real, Hale._ ” Erica sighs. “ _Listen, you know that Stiles has always—_ ”

            “He's home. Sorry. Bye.” Derek hangs up, tossing his phone onto his desk. He'll pay for that later with a stern lecture from Erica. He doesn't care. He sprawls out on his bed, and casually pulls out his laptop.

            Stiles enters the room. “Derek, you'll never believe the _incredible_ date I just went on. I'm pretty sure I totally won the game.”

            Derek laughs. “Come on, tell me about it.”

****

♚♞♚♞♚♞

****

            “You're going to _what_?” Boyd asks over coffee a week later. They had agreed that they wouldn't do another date until the following weekend. Stiles had felt a little overwhelmed. Their friendship hadn't changed whatsoever, which Derek likes. And also despises with a thousand suns of burning hatred.

            “C'mon, you _know_ that Stiles' prom wasn't the best. He moped around all night.” Derek glances at Boyd. “Besides, I have the money. I mean the insurance from the fire...”

            “I know, I know, but wow. Derek.” Boyd shakes his head. “Stiles is going to go _nuts_ , you realize that.”

            “I know. That's the point. I called Lydia, and she said she'd even come home to see me put on a prom.” Derek smiles. “ _Cora_ is even coming home. I have most of the grunt work done. I just need your help with a DJ.”

            “Ethan knows a DJ,” Boyd points out. “I can't believe you're hosting a fucking prom.”

            “It's a _little_ over the top.” But Derek doesn't give a shit. No one can keep the smile off his face since he had the idea. “It'll be perfect, because the only people who will be there, will be people Stiles cares about. Scott has him coming over for the weekend, so he has no idea.”

            “You're going to give him a heart attack,” Boyd comments. “I'm surprised you're going out of your way to win a very homoerotic challenge.”

            Derek smirks. “If I have my way, it's going to be _very_ homoerotic. That's the point of the prom.”

            Boyd shakes his head. “Never thought I'd see the day where Sourwolf Derek Hale became such a fucking softie. It's endearing.”

            “Oh shut up. Stiles doesn't even call me Sourwolf anymore.”

            “Not to your face,” Boyd deadpans.

****

♚♞♚♞♚♞

****

            “Have you heard from Scott yet?” Derek asks Kira nervously for the fourth time in thirty minutes.

            “No, Derek. Stop fussing. They'll be here. Scott's not going to tell him about this.” Kira reaches up to fix Derek's tie. It's something that Derek has seen Lydia do, and gives her a grateful smile. He likes Scott's new girlfriend. She has a nice calming effect...usually, anyway.

            “But what if—?”

            “You're a _werewolf_ ,” Kira whispers. “Start acting like you're a supernatural creature who has his shit together.”

            “You sound like Allison,” Derek murmurs.

            “That's good,” Kira beams. “I admire her.”

            “Me too. Speaking of which, she just arrived with Isaac.”

            Kira turns. “Oh wow. They look good together.”

            “Back when Scott decided to go to school here, were you worried that he'd fall for Allison again?” Derek asks, hoping to distract himself.

            Kira shakes her head. “Not at all. Don't worry. Stiles isn't going to see how gorgeous Lydia looks and want her back too.”

            It hadn't even occurred to Derek. He gives Kira a panicked look, but she only laughs softly and pats his arm in comfort.

            “Scott texted me,” Isaac tells them. “They're on their way.”

            Derek doesn't know what to say.

            “The boys have arrived!” Lydia announces a few minutes later. She walks over to Derek, and he has to admit, she looks gorgeous. If he wasn't pining over Stiles, he might be interested in her. She gives him a sharp look. No, Lydia is far too good for him. “No breaking Stiles' heart. And also, definitely no sex in the girls' bathroom.”

            “We're both guys,” is the only thing Derek can seem to manage.

            She smiles, pats his cheek. Then she spots Cora talking to Erica by the punch. “Cora's here! How lovely.”

            Derek nods.

            “ _What the hell is going on here?_ ” Stiles is asking Scott as they get out of the car. Derek focuses a little more of his energy. “ _You made me put on this suit, which I am rocking FYI, and...oh my god, are Erica and Boyd getting married here? Are they having a surprise wedding?_ ”

            “ _Better than that, Stiles_ ,” Scott says in a calm tone. At least Stiles has no idea what's going on. “ _Open the door, man. You're going to want to see this_.”

            The door opens.

            Stiles steps in.

            The girls, and Isaac, shout “Surprise!”

            Stiles blinks a few times, glancing around at the decorations (thank god for Lydia's online shopping and Erica's flawless execution), and then his eyes land on Derek. “Oh my god, you _bastard!_ ”

            Derek glances around, hoping that someone can explain to him why Stiles seems angry. It takes Derek a long second to use his wolf senses to discover that Stiles isn't actually angry. But his heart is racing. Stiles rushes forward.

            “Did you do this for me?” Stiles demands.

            “Uh, yes,” Derek stammers. Honestly, what is it about this kid that makes him struggle to think?

            “Hi, dad! Miss McCall,” Stiles says, waving to the left of Derek. He looks back at him. “Wow. Dude. _Dude_ , you recreated a prom for me?”

            “I know you didn't enjoy your last one...” Suddenly Derek's wondering if this is the stupidest thing he's ever done.

            “This is _beyond_ romantic,” Stiles whispers. He wraps his arms around Derek. “You may have won, Derek Hale. You do know how to out-romance me. But I have a surprise for you, later tonight, okay?”

            “Okay,” Derek murmurs. “I did good?”

            “You did—oh my god,” Stiles sputters. He smacks Derek's head. “You did _amazing_. I will _give_ you my first-born, okay? This is fucking awesome.”

            “Can we start the prom?” Scott shouts.

            “Yes!” Stiles responds, laughing. He drags Derek onto the dance floor and pulls him in close. Their scents mixing make Derek have to focus on breathing properly for a few minutes until he loses himself in them and sways with Stiles Stilinski.

            If anyone had told him this is where he would be about ten years ago, he would've laughed and laughed and laughed. Hell, he probably would've _died_ laughing.

            He's grateful no one told him ten years ago.

****

♚♞♚♞♚♞

****

            “Why are we leaving your prom early?” Derek asks, but Stiles is dragging him to his car. Stiles pauses, and holds his hand out. Derek frowns, giving Stiles the keys because he's too confused to really think about it. Then Stiles is ushering Derek into the passenger seat. “Stiles, what's going on?”

            “I had my next move lined up. It's not going to compare to this, though, _but_ you still deserve to get it.”

            They drive, and Stiles hushes Derek into silence. When Derek realizes where they're going, he starts to speak. Stiles slaps his hand on Derek's mouth and drives one-handed the rest of the way. Neither of them dare move Stiles' hand.

            When he parks, he drops his hand away.

            “Why are we at my...why are we at my family's house?” Derek asks.

            “Come on. I want to show you something.”

            Derek gets out of his car and follows Stiles to the front door. Stiles pushes the door open, and then lets Derek walk in. “I know it's dark, but I discovered that you _do_ have electricity still. So I bought new light bulbs. Just let me find the switch...”

            While Stiles is trying to find the switch, Derek is trying not to use his werewolf sight to see what is going on. Stiles flips the switch, and Derek is confused.

            There are piles of wood everywhere, tools, and...wait a second. It all smells...Derek turns around to look at Stiles. “ _Are you rebuilding my house_?”

            Stiles shrugs. “Not me, actually. It was my idea. But it's hard to sneak away from campus. I've been in charge though. Erica, Boyd, and Kira come home on weekends. Allison, Isaac, and Scott have been working throughout the week. Danny, Ethan, and Aiden have been helping. Jackson wired us money, since he can't be here to help. Lydia is giving pointers on designs once the base of it is built up again.”

            Derek's heart beats too fast. He almost feels as though someone just knocked the air out of his lungs, but he also knows that he's never felt more alive. He launches himself at Stiles. There's no more resisting.

            Pushing Stiles against the nearest wall, Derek presses his lips against his.

            It doesn't take Stiles a second before he's kissing back, his hands on Derek's face, in his hair, running down his chest, _everywhere_ , just like Stiles.

            Derek pulls back. “I can't believe you did this for me.”

            “I can't believe you planned a private _prom_ for me.”

            Derek lets out a small laugh. “Even. We're even.”

            “No losers here though,” Stiles whispers. He leans forward, kissing Derek a bit harder than he's expecting. Derek goes with it, only because he can _feel_ how long this has been coming.

            “Living together is the best idea we've ever had,” Derek murmurs after he breaks away from Stiles' lips. “Best. Idea.”

            “Aw, you're such a romantic. You just want to sex me up,” Stiles teases.

            “Is that so bad?”

            “No, not at _all_.”

            “Stiles?” Derek whispers after a few minutes pass by with the only sound of their heartbeats.

            “Yeah?”

            “Thanks for asking me to come to college with you,” Derek murmurs.

            Stiles looks at him, and smiles lightly. “Thanks for coming.”

            “Now,” Derek says, with amusement dancing in his tone, “I'm assuming that suit didn't come with any protection. It's a good thing there are other ways to make you _come_.”

            Stiles snorts. “You're so not a romantic. Where are the pretty words?”

            Derek presses his forehead to Stiles's. “They're here, they’re here.” Then Derek's lips are on Stiles' again. “I love you, Stiles.”

            “I love you too, Soft Wolfie. Kiss me again. It’s making me dizzy.”

           

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to give me feedback. I would appreciate it!
> 
> ([tumblr; if you want it](http://www.foxerica.tumblr.com))


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